It's just a thought but,
Who asked us if we wanted to be born
Two people made the decision
They signed the weaver, they signed the form
Then when I was just a tiny boy
My mother would often say
'I gave you life, you should thank me for it.'
But I failed to see it her way
I never asked to be alive
Nor did I make a bunch of noise
But when they found out what was inside my brain
They quickly and quietly removed my voice
So I've never really had a reason to live
But then again, I guess I really never had the choice
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem